The Other Party-- Letting Go
by Jade Featherstone
Summary: Apologies for the long absence. I figured it was mandatory to finally write another story. Remember the Party? Well, this is The Other Party-Dodie's party. Let's see what happens as Ginger delves into another chapter in her life, just as the party's in full swing. An unexpected friend helps her deal with her troubles, as she tries to remain a strong friend for those who need her.


Dear Diary….

_You know that moment when you're suddenly hit with all the changes in front of you? The life you had before seems far away, the friends you have are all growing up, hanging out with you less, and the love that broke your heart…well, it still does, but even the pain seems as far away as the life you've lived. New friends step in, new experiences make themselves known. I remember the first time I was invited to Courtney Gripling's party. I was younger back then, and Macie, Dodie and I longed to be in Courtney's inner circle. Now it was __**Dodie's **__time to shine. She__was throwing a party, and it was kind of a big deal…._

"Oh, Ginger, mind handing me that flan over there on the table?" Hope Rogers asked.

"Sure," Ginger said, both cordial and skeptical, wondering what the heck flan was. Ginger, Hope, Dodie, and Macie were all setting up for the party that would be in only an hour's time.

Even stranger than the flan was the relationship between Dodie and Hope Rogers. It was hard for Ginger to get used to being the third wheel in a conversation with Dodie. The time spent between the two was apparent; they did everything together. They talked about boys, they set up decorations, and Mrs. Bishop even came in to ask Hope about the progress of her father's business trip. It was weird. Ginger could ignore it when they were talking about fashion- her eyes never glazed over more than that moment when they'd spent thirty minutes discussing it.

"Macie, what music should we…?" Ginger asked her. She was completely enveloped in her sketchbook. Macie had been taking several art classes and was deep into her new craft. Her teacher told her she was destined to be an artist, so Macie spent oodles of her time capturing classmates, scenes, and inanimate objects on paper. Ginger had seen the sketches and she had to hand it to Macie- they were brilliant.

"I can't wait to capture the life of the party in this portrait. Just an hour before I have my hands on some raw, potential material." She mustered a nasally chuckle, and Ginger smiled. Macie was far too into her comfort zone when it came to social outings; her knack for art brought out the extrovert in her.

"Macie, _Dodie's _the life of the party," Hope said, placing a hand on her shoulder. Dodie chuckled.

There was a rap at the door. Ginger went to answer it. She hadn't thought about the fact that Hope would get up at the same time, mirroring Ginger.

"Oh, go ahead," Hope urged politely.

Ginger opened the door and a little flutter escaped her heart. If she'd been more prepared, maybe she wouldn't have let it escape. At that moment she wished she'd have let Hope open it.

"Oh, hey Darren," she said, acting as if nothing phased her. "And Simone." She had an even harder time with that one as she forced back some silent judgment and a raised brow.

"Hello," she said, smiling and taking Darren's arm. It had been like this since Mrs. Foutley had gotten married and Darren and Simone had been invited. Simone seemed to have thought that Ginger and her were best friends. It had been a year; of _course_ Ginger could deal with the fact Simone and Darren were still together, not that things were going well between them. It still, however, sent a twinge of betrayal in Ginger's side to think that Darren might not have _told _Simone her and Darren dated.

She'd assumed Simone knew at some point, but if she did, she sure showed no uncertainty or cautiousness toward Ginger. Ginger was owed at least that.

"We brought dessert," Darren mused, holding a glass baking tray. Foil covered the top.

The party started sooner than usual. People from Lucky High gradually flooded Dodie's house, showing up with food, cd mixes, and high fives. The party was in full swing by the time Darren's football buddies showed up with a football in the front yard, and Courtney's little red car produced six more of her older peers, followed by cell phone calls from the ones who claimed the party was a "huge hit."

Music was raving, the door of the house was open for those still coming and the football players who needed to come in for punch soon. Hope and Dodie graciously welcomed all who showed up; Courtney was laughing loudly in the corner, soaking up all the attention; Darren and Simone were practically locking lips in the kitchen, and many of Ginger's other classmates were dancing, eating, and mingling. Even Mipsy Mipsen had walked in.

Ginger was definitely in sync with the vibe of the party, but it wasn't the thrill or the enjoyment of being there; as Ginger looked through the ocean of people- her best friend was best friends with someone else, her ex boyfriend showcasing his affection, and Macie remained distant- her emotions began to stir with the chaos of the party. Everything was wrong. She decided to redeem part of her rotten mood by standing guard by the door. Mipsy nearly ran into Ginger's solid body as she tried to gain entrance to the party. Mipsy fell to the ground and looked up at her crossed arms and demanding expression.

"I know I shouldn't be here," she explained to Ginger apologetically. She sincerely looked sorry before a group of guys offered to help her up. Then, she threw Ginger an innocent smug and went on her way. It somehow made her feel worse. An hour went by as Ginger picked up a nacho and barely bit into it. She was so tired. She wanted to go home.

Then, standing in front of her was Hoodsy.

"Oh, hey, Hoodsy. Carl's at home right now," she told him.

"I know," he said. "Mrs. Foutley- I mean, Dr. Dave's- your mom invited me over, but I- I decided to stay." He was acting unusually odd, even for Hoodsy. "I needed to tell you something."

"What!?" Ginger said over the loudness.

"I said, I needed to _tell you something!" _He strained loudly. The party was silence for half a second. Hoodsy looked around anxiously to see the older kids staring at him, and Ginger excused the silence by coughing.

"Is it about Carl?" she asked him.

"No," umm, actually…well, remember when Macie had a secret admirer right before the Sadie Hawkins dance?"

"You knew about that?" Ginger was appalled. "Carl…!" She said in that way that made it particularly special when Ginger said it. "I'll kill him!"

"Well, no, it wasn't Carl," Hoodsy started. "It was me."

"What was you?" Ginger asked with a raised eyebrow, expecting Hoodsy to admit to eavesdropping. Instead, he admitted to something more strange.

"I was her secret admirer. It had nothing to do with Carl at all, see," he stumbled. "I sent her those letters in her locker…and I'm Berl Forkenshtock."

Ginger's eyes squinted and darted from side to side, trying to remember that year.

"But she talked about him for weeks after that. And anyway, Hoodsy- how did you even get away with disguising yourself? Don't you think she'd _know _if it was you?" She directed the question as if to imply he needed to be honest.

"I dunno," Hoodsy said, answering honestly- to Ginger's dismay. "I guess I was lucky…she was so beautiful that night, like an angel, and I…"

This was too much. Her little brother's best friend was confessing his junior high love about her high school friend. She didn't know what to think and considered it rude to Hoodsy to make an excuse to leave.

"Ginger!" Macie called out to her from the crowd. She held her sketchbook above her head, to protect it from any damage.

"Oh, no- Hoodsy said. "I gotta go! Can you find a way to tell her for me?" He rushed out the door.

"What's up with Hoodsy?" Dodie said, and Ginger, not wanting to further the conversation with his sister, cried, "I don't know! What are you asking me for?" Hope and Dodie were apathetic to Ginger's frustration, talking away like they'd known each other for years.

"Ginger!" Macie called again.

"Macie!" Ginger grabbed Macie's arm and gently lead her out of harm's way from the unconcerned teenagers in the living room.

"Ginger," Macie panted, walking into the kitchen, where there were less people. She darted over to the pantry and opened it to hide her sketchbook in safekeeping.

"Shoo!" she said to the people making out in it, and they went somewhere else to carry on. After safely concealing her sketchbook, Macie leaned against the pantry door.

"Ginger, I must tell you something," she said.

"Don't tell me you want to see Berl Forkenshtock," Ginger muttered.

"Who?" Macy asked. "Well, let me be forthright, Ginger," she started. "After a heart-shattering breakup with Andrew last year, I turned to art as an outlet, as you know."

"But Macie, you broke up with him, remember?" Ginger said.

"Alas, it is so," Macie said in her soft-spoken dramaticness. "But whilst I was in the midst of venting out my frustrations when I'd see his eye on another in band practice, I made haste to every art class I could find, and in the joy of each scribble I have found a darkness in the shadows of my heavy lead pencil that must not be mentioned to anyone."

"What happened, Macie?" Ginger asked.

"It is for my safety and my perfect record that you not breathe a word!" Macie cried intensely. "Not a word, Ginger!"

"Ok, ok, I promise," Ginger said, sincerely urgent.

"Oh, Ginger, I fear I have fallen in love with my art teacher. He is a young teacher of 25 with tufts of jet-black hair and an eye for beauty." Macy became congested and excited at once and calmed herself.

"He tells me to get into a good art school and mature my talent. I pray I cannot wait to tell him before my innermost thoughts will burst forth from my chest." Macy's cheeks flushed and she nearly swooned. Ginger had never seen her so taken before.

Ginger sat stunned for a moment, and then said, "Macie, you can't tell him you have feelings for him. He's too old for you. You'd have your heart broken and you could get into serious trouble…Do you remember what happened the last time I fell for Mr. Gardner? It didn't end well." She looked down in embarrassed modesty.

"But that's why I figured you can help me," Macie told her. "You must help me get over him, or my mentor will turn into a forbidden love affair."

"That's not going to happen, Macie," Ginger rationalized. "He could lose his job. Can you hold tight until tomorrow? There's too much going on and I don't want someone to hear," Ginger added.

"Yes, perhaps you're right, Ginger," Macie said.

Ginger headed toward the door. She wanted to be outside to get some fresh air. The truth was not that she was trying to protect Macie but that the night was turning into a range of personal dilemmas Ginger couldn't handle, including her own. And just as she was about to exit the energy-filled, noisy house, she heard voices in the crowd. The secretiveness of the conversation perked Ginger's ears and rung out over the booming stereo and chatter.

"I just thought she'd be over it by now. It's been a year already and you can still she the look on Ginger's face, like she's a wounded puppy dog or something."

"Come on, Simone," Darren was saying. "She's not a threat against you…"

That was the last straw. Ginger shoved her way past dozens of people like a bulldozer, not caring who she knocked over. She _was _over it. She wasn't angry that Darren and Simone were dating, and Simone obviously did know about Ginger, so that wasn't a question. She was angry because Simone was reading too much into it. Sure, she still had feelings for Darren. Her mother had told her that feelings of first love never really went away, but she didn't spend her days pining away for Darren in the corners of her bedroom and scribbling his name down in her diary. Ginger did not make it through a year with heartbreak, a busted appendix, and her world changing around her just to hear some cheerleader tell people who she thought Ginger was.

She huffed and sat outside on the cool porch, watching Ian Richton and other guys toss a football around.

"You can have him," Miranda said to her. "He's not that cute anymore. Besides, I have my eye on someone else."

Just as Ginger was sure the night would end in a fistfight, Miranda talked again.

"Interesting night, huh, Foutley?" She still said _Foutley _in that sarcastic way, but it seemed out of habit and not out of intended cynicism.

"Tell me about it," Ginger replied. Then, unsure how to proceed and too burnt out to care about Miranda's next upcoming insults, she continued to stare at the football players. Crickets chirped into the night and the wind felt cool and relaxing on her skin.

Miranda continued on her own, as if some demon was possessing her to talk to Ginger. "Well, parties can't be great all the time, can they? Or else there wouldn't be juicy gossip about the bad ones."

In her own way, Miranda was funny, and Ginger recognized it. She hid behind popularity and gossip, but she had an influence, a way of lightening the mood.

"This party sucks," Ginger agreed, continuing to look away from Miranda.

Miranda did the same and responded. _"Com-puh-letely. _But Bishop knows how to throw one, doesn't she?"

"Wait," Ginger said, changing her mood to suspicion. "I'm not about to talk trash on my best friend," she assured her.

"You didn't hear the 'but', Foutley," she pointed out. "It's not a bad party. Will Patterson even stopped by with some college buddies to play football outside. Guess that's what loud-mouths are good at. You know, getting the word out and all. I should know, considering I am one. And I _always _throw the best parties."

"They could suck raspberries for all I know. Couldn't say I've been to any," Ginger joked sarcastically.

Miranda laughed loudly and slapped Ginger on the back. "You're not bad, Foutley. And I always hated you."

"The feeling is mutual," Ginger confirmed bluntly.

"Courtney's in there with all her new best friends. I couldn't get her to even look at me. She was so disgusted with how I treated her before the friendship ended. And if it wasn't for you helping her out during her adjustment time of moving into your sad little house, I would have been there for her if she came crying back."

"Even though you blame me for everything, Miranda, it sounds like you're sincerely sorry you did that to her," Ginger replied.

It was the only time Ginger saw Miranda's face soften. "Yeah, what can I say? We were BFFs. It's hard to let reality settle in and destroy all that."

"Tell me about it," Ginger said again, a little too grim than she intended to reveal.

"Don't tell me," Miranda guessed. "Hope Rogers and Bishop, right? It's hard to miss that friendship."

"No kidding. Mipsy walks into the party and who wants her to leave for treating Dodie horribly? Not Hope. Not Dodie. Me, Dodie's best friend." Ginger jutted a finger into her collarbone. "And on top of that," Ginger said, "I'm everyone's relationship advice when I'm not straight on how I feel about them in the first place," she continued, thinking about Darren.

"Well, Mipsy walked in with me, so that can't be helped, but I get your point. I probably shouldn't be here, either, but who can resist going to a massive bash- even if it is hosted by someone you hate? And as far as relationships go… I have better things to worry about. Like standing on my own two feet. That and clarinet lessons."

A laugh escaped Ginger, and Miranda joined. The interaction with Miranda was more natural than forced. She never thought in a million years that her worst enemy would even try to understand her point of view.

"Foutley, ya just gotta let go," Miranda advised, looking up at the stars.''

"Yeah. Let go," Ginger repeated.

It was the end of the night, the end of the whirling and stirring of chaos, and the beginning of a friendship.


End file.
